


Just Not Cricket

by Redangel228



Category: Ghosts (TV 2019) RPF
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Blow Jobs, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, M/M, Pete is the actor who plays Havers, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Secrets, Smut, the ship no one knew they wanted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-20 15:41:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30007140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redangel228/pseuds/Redangel228
Summary: They were friends, team-mates, colleagues.  They didn't tell each other everything, they weren't that close.  But somehow Peter knew anyway.
Relationships: Ben Willbond/Peter Sandys Clarke
Kudos: 5





	Just Not Cricket

**Author's Note:**

> I am working on further Capvers chapters but in the meantime here is a bit of inconsequential smut about a pairing no one asked for but hey, you get your friend to play your unrequited gay love interest, someone somewhere is going to ship it

Ben perched on the wooden slats of the changing room bench, leaning forward over his left knee to tie the laces of his white, studded shoe. He glanced up at Pete doing the same on the opposite bench.

‘I’ve been meaning to catch you actually’ he said conversationally. ‘We’ve been chucking around ideas for series four, would you be up for a return if it pans out?’

Pete tugged the laces of his right shoe tighter with a grunt. ‘Yeah, definitely, that’d be great’

‘It probably wouldn’t be much but obviously if you’re not available we’ll write something else’

‘No, no, I’m up for that, it was fun last time’ Pete started work on the laces of his left shoe ‘Thinking of expanded the Havers storyline eh? That’ll be an audience pleaser’ Ben finished tying and sat up straight, resting his hands on his wide spread knees

‘I think there’s scope for it, I love exploring the back stories’

‘The fan fiction writers will be beside themselves’ Pete’s eyes twinkled. He knew it was wicked thing to say but he couldn’t help himself. Ben made a noise somewhere between a cough and laugh

‘Not exactly my motivation but thanks for pointing that out’ Pete straightened up too and watched him carefully with amused eyes

‘You must have read some of it though, haven’t you? Be honest’

Ben rolled his eyes at the ceiling ‘Christ, Pete, really? I mean, it’s kind of flattering that it’s out there I suppose but I don’t think it’s a way to spend an evening’ Pete snorted

‘I have’ he said, eyes still twinkling ‘but then I’m a lot less invested in the characters. Some of it is surprisingly well written. _Some_ of it is surprisingly horny. You’d be amazed what you and I have been up to in people’s heads’ 

Ben shook his head in amused despair ‘Whatever floats your boat, mate, I’ll pass, thanks all the same’ He stood up and straightened his whites ‘Come on, get out on the field, you old pervert’

In the bar of the clubhouse, Pete slid into the banquette at right angles to Ben and held his pint out to clink with Ben’s which Ben duly did.

‘Great match’ he enthused ‘You were on form, about time they got the thrashing they deserve’

‘Yeah, we played well, beautiful six from you, poetry in motion’ Ben was already a little tipsy and full of adrenaline from the win. Pete smiled and accepted the compliment with a tip of his glass. They lapsed into slightly drunken, companionable silence, watching the rest of the team celebrate. Pete took a long draught from his beer and set it down. He looked at Ben thoughtfully as the older man surveyed the room.

‘I was thinking about the Captain earlier’ he said nonchalantly. Ben dragged his attention away from his teammates and turned to face the conversation

‘Oh yeah?’ He was only vaguely interested, who wanted to talk about work after such a great afternoon.

‘I heard that interview you did, about how important his story has turned out to be to people even these days’

Ben took a pull on his pint, only half engaged. He put it down and returned his hand to the edge of the seating, leaning forward a little with his weight on his hands, watching the other cricketers. There didn’t seem to be much to say, he wasn’t going to get into a deep conversation about LGBT rights now, however much the story and its impact mattered to him.

‘Must be really hard’ Pete continued ‘For people. All this time later and people still feel they have to be closeted like nothing’s really changed. So sad, awful’

‘Uh huh’ Ben still didn’t feel like getting into it, not right now

‘But I guess sometimes circumstances dictate that you’re discreet’ Pete continued. Ben shrugged

‘I guess’

Silence returned and they both watched as two of their peers raced to down a pint the quickest, putting their empty glasses on their heads in time honoured fashion a split second apart. A cheer went up from the others. Pete adopted the same pose as Ben, leaning his weight through straight arms as he sat a little forward from the bench seat to see more easily, his fingers curling round the front edge of the velour upholstery. With his concentration firmly on the games in front of him he flexed his fingers as if stretching them and the little finger of his left hand brushed almost imperceptibly against the outside of Ben’s right hand. Ben didn’t seem to flinch or even notice but, although he hadn’t moved, Pete could immediately sense a change in alertness. He swallowed a smile. Gotcha. Or perhaps Howzat would be more appropriate. He felt horribly sorry for men of the past who had had to play these games out of necessity but it didn’t stop him enjoying the exhilaration that came with getting them right, even in this day and age.

He shifted the weight on his hands, just a little, ostensibly for comfort but his hand now rested undeniably against Ben’s and Ben still hadn’t moved. His stare had hardened just enough that Pete could tell but anyone looking over would see no difference. Pete knew. Their teammates could have formed a human pyramid in the middle of the bar, Ben wouldn’t have seen it, his attention was all on the square inch of skin contact. The silence was almost unbearably pregnant.

‘I suppose’ Pete continued conversationally ‘that sometimes people keep these things private out of consideration for others…’ He let the end of the sentence hang. There was no response. ‘I mean, if, for example, you had already made a major life decision like, say, getting married or having children, but there were still things outside of that you enjoyed, it would be the caring thing to do, to keep those things to yourself…’

Ben closed his eyes as he took a deep breath in through his nose. Now would be a really good time to tell Pete he had no idea what he was talking about. He breathed out again, opening his eyes and kept his face forward as he looked at Pete sideways, assessing the situation. Pete looked back at him unabashed. Ben remembered swallowing was important and gave it a try but it was difficult. He concentrated on keeping his breathing steady although he could feel his heart start to speed up. 

‘I suppose that is a situation some people find themselves in’ he managed, their eye contact unbroken, almost a challenge to see who would blink first both literally and metaphorically.

Hidden from their teammates by the table, Pete drew the tip of his index finger along the outer edge of Ben’s hand tracing a line from wrist to little finger, watching as Ben swallowed hard and his eyelids fluttered momentarily. He took a breath as if he were about to say something dramatic but let it out again slowly. ‘It’s quite stuffy in here again’ Pete’s tone was still chatty ‘I think maybe I could do with some fresh air’ Anyone watching would have known something was going on from their complete inability to break eye contact. Luckily their teammates were all too focussed on celebrating to pay them any attention. Ben nodded slowly and silently. ‘Perhaps we could take a walk round the boundary line? Check they haven’t left out any markers’ Another nod, this one barely perceptible. ‘I need a slash first though, I’ll meet you out there’ Pete rose, drained his pint and headed for the loos.

Ben gave it a minute then stood slowly. He picked up his glass and walked towards the French doors on to the clubhouse terrace. His mind was racing but he gave every impression of a slightly drunken need for some air and no one paid him any attention as he headed outside.

He stood for a moment, appreciating the cooler air, light from the windows spilling over him, the pitch in darkness. Someone whistled through their teeth off to his left. He put his glass down on the nearest table and walked towards the sound, the noise of the celebrations fading quickly behind him. 

As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he could make out the shape of Pete leaning nonchalantly against the arm of a bench, legs crossed at the ankle. He tried to focus on controlling all those bodily functions he usually took for granted, breathing, swallowing, walking in a straight line, they seemed like a peculiar amount of effort. He drew near enough to make out Pete’s face which broke into a relaxed smile. Ben gave him a tight, nervous smile in return. He came to halt in front of Pete and stood awkwardly waiting for some sign of what the younger man was thinking.

‘Fancy meeting you here’ Pete said softly and Ben couldn’t help but relax a little, even giving a tiny smirk of acknowledgement. 

‘How did you know?’ he said, curiosity getting the better of him. Pete shrugged.

‘Takes one to know one as they say’ He held out his hand and Ben glanced nervously over his shoulder towards the clubhouse. ‘Half of them couldn’t tell you their own names right now, don’t worry about them’ Ben put his hand in Pete’s and felt Pete tug him closer, uncrossing his legs and pulling Ben against his body. They stared at each other in the dark for a moment before their lips came together in a needy, hungry kiss. Pete let go of Ben’s hand and encircled him, letting his hands rest on the curve of Ben’s buttocks, drawing him further in to the space between his open legs. Ben put his hands to Pete’s face, holding him still as he kissed him enthusiastically. It was an experience he only allowed himself very rarely. Not because kissing a man was anything to be ashamed of but because he felt such guilt at hiding this part of his nature from everyone in his life when he claimed to be such an advocate of openness and acceptance.

They parted, breathing hard, unable to take their eyes off each other. Pete squeezed Ben’s bum, enjoying the firm muscle under his fingers and the way it made Ben press against him, hard-on clear as day against his hip. He stood up straight, backing Ben up as he did so, and took hold of his hand. Pete marched off towards the equipment shed, Ben trotting a little to keep up as the younger man strode purposefully to an even darker part of the grounds.

They rounded the corner of the shed, longer weeds tangling round their ankles, and Pete pushed Ben back against the wooden wall, almost instantly plugging his mouth with his tongue, pressing him hard into the wood with his body weight. They both scrabbled for the hems of the other man’s shirt, pulling them free of jeans and sliding their hands in to touch the warm, smooth skin. Pete began to kiss a trail across Ben’s jaw and down the thin, sensitive skin of his neck. Ben groaned and tried to put his head back as far as possible to allow him access, his breath catching as he felt teeth graze against his collarbone

‘Don’t mark me’ he managed to gasp out. Pete looked up at him through his eyelashes and grinned

‘Not my first rodeo, Ben, I know what I’m doing’ He continued his assault on Ben’s skin as both hands went down to the belt of Ben’s jeans and he worked it open without looking. He came back level with Ben’s face and fixed him with dancing eyes as he popped open the button and slid down the zip. Ben tried valiantly to maintain eye contact but he lost the battle as he felt Pete slip his hand between denim and cotton and palm his achingly stiff cock. Pete let his right hand cradle it as his left hand awkwardly opened the buttons on Ben’s shirt and exposed his chest. He bent to kiss first his collarbone then down across his pecs before centring on his nipple and teasing it with a firm tongue. He felt the twitch of Ben’s cock in his hand at the same time as he heard the groan of pleasure. 

Pete pushed both hands into the waistband of Ben’s boxers and eased them and his jeans lower down his thighs making his cock bounce as it was set free. He knelt in the long grass, hoping there were no stinging nettles hidden in the uncut weeds and paused to appreciate the situation. It had been a beautiful day, a great game, a fun evening and now, after years of friendship, he’d finally found a way to crack open Ben’s understandably closed nature. He grinned to himself in the darkness knowing Ben couldn’t see his face. He felt Ben’s fingers rake gently through his hair, no doubt wondering why Pete had apparently stopped, and leant forward to take the very tip of Ben’s cock between his lips. Ben slumped back against the shed, his hands tightening in Pete’s hair. Pete began to work him expertly, lips and tongue exploring, teasing, caressing. Ben’s hips rolled gently, trying to get Pete to stick to the rhythm he needed and Pete let him lead. He softened his lips and took Ben as deep into his mouth as he could, pulling back slightly as Ben rolled a little harder and accidently came close to making him gag. They found a rhythm and Pete revelled in the unbroken stream of quiet gasps and moans spilling from Ben’s mouth. He was rock hard himself and fumbled awkwardly with one hand to release his cock and wrap his hand around it, stroking it firmly in an attempt to catch up with Ben who he could tell wasn’t far from his climax.

It was Ben who cracked first. His groan was loud enough to sound like it echoed in the night and his hands dug uncomfortably hard into Pete’s hair as he braced himself against the wooden side of the shed and arched his back, driving deep into Pete’s mouth. His cock throbbed between Pete’s lips as he pumped shot after shot on to his waiting tongue. Pete’s hand sped up in sympathy and his groan vibrated around Ben’s cock as he came on to the grass. Ben’s chest was heaving as he struggled to stand upright and control the sensations ricocheting around his body. Pete held still, mouth, hand, everything frozen for a moment, unable to compute what should happen next. A shaky hand cupped his cheek and he looked up to find Ben looking down at him with heavy lidded eyes. He eased his mouth away and sat back on his haunches, softening, sticky cock still in hand. There didn’t seem to be anything to be said, eye contact said it all. Ben looked thoroughly spent, normally immaculate hair flopping forward over one eye, chest visibly rising and falling under his unbuttoned shirt. Pete groaned as he tried to stand, knees complaining, back stiff. He leant in to an unresisting Ben and kissed him deeply, letting his tongue wind into Ben’s mouth, letting Ben taste himself. He felt rather than heard the murmur of exhausted acknowledgement. 

They parted, straightening their clothes, trying to judge the mood and work out what happens next. 

‘Well I didn’t see that coming’ Ben said with a wry smile. Pete smiled back. ‘Sorry if it was a bit one sided’

‘I didn’t give you many options, to be honest’ Pete grinned ‘But there’s always the opportunity for a rematch if you fancy levelling the score’

‘I think that’s only fair’ Ben replied ‘Just don’t tell the fan ficcers…’

**Author's Note:**

> It's all a bit meta in places. But who knows what they talk about when they're alone :-)


End file.
